And Just Like That, It Starts
by BlueRain1
Summary: -COMPLETE- The biggest realization happens in the tiniest fragment of a second. You never know when it will happen, but when it does, it strikes with a full blow. HHr ONE-SHOT. PG-13 just to be sure. R


**Author's Note:** I was feeling, very, _very_ H/Hr tonight so I decided to do this little one-shot. I hope y'all like. ^___^

**Summary:** The biggest realization happens in the tiniest fragment of a second. You never know when it will happen, or if it _will_ happen, for that matter, but when it does, it strikes like a full blow.

**And Just Like That, It Starts**

The biggest realization happens in the tiniest fragment of a second. You never know when it will happen—or if it _will_ happen, for that matter—but when it does, it strikes like a full blow. It catches you off guard and you never seem to know what it was that hit you. _If_ something even hit you, that is.

That's what happened to Harry Potter.

Seven years they had been. Seven years of friendship, loyalty, sacrifice, laughter, tears, joy, sadness…. of unrequited love? Was it even unrequited? After all, he had just found out that he loved his best friend. But let's be more specific; more so that he was _in love_ with his best friend during those seven years; Hermione Granger. He had always loved her of course, after all, she was his best friend and he basically _had_ to love her.

But there was a fine line between loving and actually _being_ in love, at least where it concerned him and her, as his conscience was so kind to remind him. He would not deny that he had always had some sort of physical attraction towards her…. Needless to say that spark had always been there. As well as some small sexual tension because, let's face it, he was a guy after all and she was not exactly underdeveloped, as he thought she would be.

To say the truth, he had never attributed her to be a girl until about their fourth year, when he had seen her at the Yule Ball. And that single realization had been so powerful that his jaw had dropped…. His jaw dropped at the knowledge that she was indeed a girl _and_ that she was a really, really pretty girl. He'd never discarded her as ugly; he'd even said so once. He had been surprised that she thought he saw her as ugly, when it was the complete opposite….

Now, he was not oblivious to the fact that she indeed liked him. He knew that since their third year, after all, that's when he had started to notice, anyway. She became increasingly clingier to him; not that he minded. She also seemed to be more worried and she even showed tinges of jealousy after he had told her and Ron about his first kiss with Cho Chang. Let's face it, a lot of jealousy, though he indeed noticed as well that she tried to not show it and to be happy for him…. She hugged him and kissed his cheek more often; she had had physical touches with him almost all the time…. Again, he did not mind at the least.

Now he tried to think when exactly was it that he had begun to fall for her, he knew it had to be in his fifth year. Perhaps that time when he had seized her from Grawp's—Hagrid's _little_ brother—gigantic hand and she had shaken so helplessly in his arms. Perhaps it was when she had finally mustered up the courage to say 'Voldermort'. Or maybe, even, when he thought he had lost her down at the Department of Mysteries when they were escaping Death Eaters after having the prophecy in their hands….

The truth was that she was always there for him. She was always willing to give everything for him with her unconditional friendship…. with her willing sacrifice…. And he knew that most of the time he would have done the same, but he would've had to think twice about it. Whereas she merely did it; no questions asked.

He raised his gaze from his parchment to look at her as she scribbled away, _An Advanced Guide to Transfiguration_ opened by her side where she would often pry her eyes from her own parchment to search a page and then resume writing. The library was eerily empty at that time of the night. He continued to stare at her, but not intensely so she wouldn't notice. And anyway, if she happened to look up, he would just make something up…. 

And she indeed happened to look up, and he indeed happened to make up an excuse that of which he was proud of. Besides, she always believed him if he said that he was tired and he had been staring into space to not doze off. She managed a small smile and told him she would not be long.

"Just wait five more minutes for me, please," she said as she stared down at her parchment, her chocolate brown eyes obviously rereading what she had just written. Of course, she needn't tell him to wait, he would gladly do so. He decided to get lost in his thoughts again, but she would not let him. She was now running her quill across her lips gingerly and he gulped. As she ran the quill down her neck his mind was sent into frenzy. His palms immediately started sweating and adrenaline begun to rush through his veins at an incredibly quick rate.

Was she aware of what she was doing to him?

She then gave a smile down to her parchment, rolled it closed and seized her quill-running actions to put everything away. She sighed contentedly and looked up at him, her smile fading into a frown. "You haven't picked up yet, Harry?" her voice was sweet and delicate, breaking the silence that had been upon them as of the moment. He snapped out of his reverie and a small blush stained his already flushed cheeks as he gathered everything quickly. They flung their backpacks over their shoulders and walked out of the library after Hermione bid goodbye to Madam Pince, who nodded and closed the library. 

Stopping again at the staircase because she had to tie their shoe, Harry leaned against the railing and looked at her as she finished, she gave him yet another smile and he saw her Head Girl badge glittering in the bright light of the many torches around the Main Staircase. He smiled, looking down upon his own and then handing her backpack back to her.

They walked in a comfortable silence, her behind him, up the stairs until they reached the seventh floor and walked down the long hallway to reach their common room. It was dim, almost in darkness, the few torches that were there were almost out already. All the way, he had been pondering whether to tell her or not. He needed to tell her, or else it would eat him inside.

Then again, had she not refrained from telling him for about four years? She must be the one that was being eaten inside. She had to go each and every day supporting him and being happy for every girl he had ever been with. She must be so sad inside. But he did not feel sorry for her; that would be wrong. In fact, he was very happy that she was so strong. Perhaps her strength would make her understand him.

And at that moment he realized how selfish that had sounded, even to his own ears.

He stopped dead in his tracks and turned around in the same spot to face her. He felt her crash against him, but he held her upper arms so she would not fall. She looked up at him questioningly when he did not release his soft grip. "What is it, Harry? Is something wro—" But she never finished her sentence as he bent down to unite his lips with hers in a kiss. He felt her bring up her hands as to push him away, but perhaps she thought better of it because she never did. Instead, he felt her hands slide down his torso until they fell limply at her sides again. He shivered very slightly at her touch and took that opportunity to intensify the kiss, but she didn't let him.

She still returned his kiss, but softly. It seemed only her mouth was responding to him, she was completely still otherwise. And sure enough, she was the first one to pull away. He saw in kind of slow motion as her eyelids fluttered open and her eyes searched his. She only mirrored his feelings, but he also could see confusion as it rose up in her features and then he saw a frown enter her rosy lips. She was flushed, perhaps at being caught off-guard. She gulped and took a step back instinctively. 

"D-don't do that again, Harry," she said in the ghost of a whisper and it was now his turn for tilting his head. He questioned her with his eyes; he was puzzled, not knowing why she was now reacting like this when merely five seconds ago she had been kissing him back. "It only confuses me." She walked around him and began to make her way to the common room again, he followed her in silence. 

They climbed through the portrait and then they came to a stop in front of the door which led to the Head Boy and Girl Common Room. Another password muttered and they entered the solitude of the exclusive common room that was just for them. Hermione did not speak at all and she begun to walk to her dormitory. She reached the door labeled 'Head Girl' but Harry knew that if she went inside, she would not talk about it anymore and it would be forgotten.

She would continue her friendship with him as if nothing had happened. And he didn't want that. He wanted to be with her, he wanted to tell her he loved her and hear her say the same thing back, he wanted for her to kiss _him_ and not have any sort of repercussions after. He wanted to say all this to her, but instead, all he was able to say was:

"It shouldn't confuse you, Hermione." He saw as she turned around, dropped her backpack in front of the door and tilted her head at him, almost accusingly. She walked towards him again.

"Why should it not, Harry, when all I've done for the past four years is prevent from something like that to happen?" she spoke softly, not a trace of anger in her voice, even. He eyed her wearily, trying to ask himself that same question, _why_…. 

He had definitely not seen this coming. He had half-expected her to smile at him and then hold his hand to tell him it was all alright and there would sprout a great relationship between the two. But that was as far from reality as his mind seemed to be right now….

"Why didn't you want for it to happen?" he asked in a pitiful excuse for his lack of answer. She gave a derisive laugh.

"I thought I already told you it confused me, Harry." She crossed her arms and looked down at her feet as if they were the most interesting thing she had ever seen. Heaving a sigh, she toyed with her feet. He looked down at his feet as well, and they stayed in a suspended silence for a long time. He could feel his heart beating very fast now and he didn't know why he felt like that.

"Good Night, Hermione," said Harry and he walked up to his room after hearing her faint response. He closed the door behind him and sighed, shaking his head….

Harry lay awake in his bed for the past half hour, his face buried in his pillow. He had been thinking about her again. He was afraid to go to sleep, because she would haunt his dreams. Oh his dreams. If only she knew what she _did to him in those dreams. What _he_ did to her…._

He felt his mattress shift beside him and he unburied his face from his pillow. He saw the blurry outline of someone there. He grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and put them on to see _her_ sitting there. Her brown locks were gathered around her face as she looked at him…. He felt her shift more and then she leaned in to kiss him…. Oh what a kiss…. she came to lie on top of him as he caressed her back earnestly.  She also caressed him, ran her hands through his hair, under his shirt.

He heard her moan incoherently and then.... he then woke up after another heated dream. He sat up in his bed, sweating with arousal and said arousal could be seen. He decided to walk into the bathroom to take a cold shower, perhaps in hopes of cooling himself down.

Walking into the bathroom, he locked his side of the door, leaving her side unlocked. Besides, she was fast asleep now; it wouldn't be likely for her to come inside the bathroom at that time of the night. Much less if she heard the shower, which she must have heard when he turned it on. He always heard the shower when she was bathing, so….

He let the cold water run through his bare back, and closed his eyes, submerging himself in his thoughts. After his shower, he dried himself, put on a pair of boxers and walked out to his room, where he saw her standing by the bed.

She flushed at seeing him in such little clothing, but it seemed that she recovered from that shock rather quickly, as she looked into his face determinedly. She walked over to him and embraced his, burying her face into his chest. She then flattened her palms against his chest. "Harry," she whispered, looking into his eyes. Hers were very different. "Kiss me again. Kiss me as if you loved me."

He didn't need for her to tell him twice. In a swift movement, he captured her lips with his own and began to kiss her slowly, almost hesitantly. She returned the kiss equally but this time she was the one to intensify it. He ran his tongue across her bottom lip and she parted her mouth for him. He let out a small groan as her tongue clashed with his and he tightened his grip around her waist.

One of her arms snaked around his neck, bringing him closer whilst the other rubbed little circles on one of his arms. The kiss was pure fire. Whereas he was sure that what she had meant when she said 'kiss me like you love me' was a soft kiss, a sweet one; this one was far from that actually. But he couldn't help himself. He caressed the roof of her mouth with his tongue and felt her give a little moan. However though intense and passionate, it was slow, as if they were savoring each and every instant of mayhem. And they were. 

Her taste drove him mad with euphoria; she tasted so very different from all the girls he'd ever kissed. She kissed so much better, so much slower, so very much sensually. And then the equal feeling of her mouth on his own and of her wandering hands around his bare torso was enough to drive him to the very brink of madness. She was so good at this and he wondered where she had learned to be as so. But he should not think about that. And speaking about thinking, his common sense kicked in. This was his best friend! He was kissing the person that meant the most to him in the world. But he felt, however, that he had crossed the line of friendship much too long ago, she had become much more than his best friend. She was his soul mate, his rock. She was everything to him, and yet….nothing at all. 

And for one of the many times throughout his life, he left his common sense shatter at his feet and he instead decided to get lost with her in that kiss. But he felt her kiss grow slightly even more hesitant and he knew that she could not discard _her_ common sense as easily as he could his. So, to allow her more time, he proceeded with caution, his kiss becoming less intense. He did not want her to think he was rushing into things. But, as everything reaches his end, so did his air supply, and he had to pull away so he could breathe. She was panting in his arms, looking as if she were close to swooning. Her eyes were still closed and she was now even more flushed. He gave himself the pleasure of watching her beautiful face. Her mouth was slightly parted still as if frozen in a moment. And then she opened her eyes, locking her gaze with his. She gave the smallest of gasps. "Oh," she managed to blurt out breathlessly. "That's what it's like to be loved…." She closed her eyes again, as if wanting to savor the statement.

Her taste was still in his mouth and he thought he could not get enough of it. "But I do love you," he said rather nervously, the words blurting out very quickly. For a moment, it seemed like she hadn't heard him, but then her eyes opened and she managed a small smile. 

"I know you love me, Harry," she said. "You're my best friend."

"No," he said, rubbing her cheek, she looked at his hand, then at him. "I really do love you, Hermione. I'm in love with you." Now she really looked as if she was going to swoon. She swayed in his arms, but remained staring at him, giving him a nervous laugh.

"You don't have to say that, Harry," she said regaining her composure rather quickly, biting her lip very slightly. She then ran the tip of her tongue to moisten her lips. He blinked at that, wanting to kiss her again.

"I'm being serious, Hermione," he replied, still looking at her lips hungrily. She searched for his eyes.

"You don't love me, Harry," she repeated more firmly.

"I love you, Hermione Granger, do you not understand?" he asked growing impatient that she did not believe him. He then kissed her again, this time hard from the start. When he pulled away, her eyes were clouded over. She touched her lips gingerly and then looked at him.

"Do you?"

"I do!" he said, even more impatiently now. "What do you want me to do to prove it to you? I can yell it so everyone could know. I would do anything for you. Hermione, I'd give you the world if I could. I love you."

"But I don't want the world," she said quietly, looking at him. "All I ever wanted was for you to love me. And now that you do…" she trailed off, looking down. She then looked up at him. "I love you, Harry."

He gave her a grin, which she returned nervously. "And what now, Hermione?" he asked, knowing that she would become a target for Voldermort and fearing so. She may have seen that in his eyes, or perhaps she knew that all along. But her face was set in her usual Hermione determinedness. 

"And now we have the world, and we may do with it as we please without being afraid of what it will bring." She then kissed him and both lay down on his bed, she curling up to him to fall asleep.

**Author's Note:** I hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please do review! Much appreciated. ^_^

**~Blue Rain**


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